the bonds we share
by soragrey
Summary: Lydia loves them all differently.
1. keeping him safe

Author's note: season 3A-compliant/pre-banshee Lydia.

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Sometimes Lydia thought it would've been easier if she just _told_ Danny everything, because this was something she shouldn't have to keep from him. But she knew that if she started babbling about werewolves and kanimas and hunters, it would only result in him asking questions. Even if he did believe her, she absolutely refused to drag another human into any of this supernatural shit. In fact, it was one of the few things the pack had agreed on.

Which was more than okay with her, because she didn't want him to be like Stiles, who blundered his way in and nearly got killed several times because of his involvement. Or end up a hunter like Allison. Or being used by a psychotic werewolf and nearly driven insane in the process. The less Danny Mahealani knew, the safer he'd be. Because fuck it all, he would _not_ become battle-hardened and scarred like the rest of them.

Lydia knew she ought to keep her distance, though she was unwilling to push him away. Since Jackson left, and with Allison in France, she and Danny had been spending more of their time together. Over the summer, they took dance lessons and had Friday night movie dates. It was a refreshing change being with him, doing something _normal_, instead of thinking about dead bodies or how utterly _batshit_ her life was lately.

But then Danny met Ethan and she found herself threatened by their newfound relationship. Not because she was jealous, but because she sensed that he had an ulterior motive for pursuing her friend. Her suspicions were confirmed once it was revealed that Ethan was part of the Alpha Pack. Then she became downright _pissed._ Not only did the supernatural world _not_ leave her alone, but Ethan, for whatever reason, was shadowing someone she swore to protect.

However, this action puzzled her. While Danny was friends with nearly everyone in the pack, he himself had no ties to any of the Hales. He was also neither werewolf nor hunter, and unlike Stiles, had no knowledge of the supernatural world.

She wished that she could warn Danny of the danger he was in, and it frustrated her that she couldn't. Even though she was tempted to snarl _back the hell off_, she was not about to confront a fucking _werewolf_, especially when said werewolf could quite possibly _kill_ her. And anyway, Ethan could easily convince him that she was a jealous liar, or worse, insane.

Instead, she could only watch as their relationship grew stronger, and the closer they got, the more on edge she was. As if she weren't already terrified enough, she also lived with the constant fear that someday Danny would find himself in the middle of the secret war.

Lydia would rather be killed by one of the Alphas before ever letting that happen.


	2. caleidoscope

a/n: Caleidoscope (with a "C") is an acceptable spelling, so please don't say I misspelled the chapter title. The reason why I chose this object was because I thought it represented how Lydia's perception of Scott changed throughout the seasons.

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If someone told Lydia Martin two years ago that she'd be friends with Scott McCall, she would've either a) thrown the nearest heavy object at his/her head or b) sneered that she'd never interact with a _nobody_. But that was before Peter Hale bit both of them, consequently throwing them into a terrifying new world. One where death was a constant companion and the monsters under her bed were very real. So yeah, she kinda had to pay attention to Scott.

He's defended her so many times since then, first from Peter, then from Derek and his former pack, and finally from the Darach. It was a scary realization, how safe she felt around him, to the point that she would actually entrust him with her _life._ And that she wouldn't hesitate to die for him. In fact, she nearly did, back at the Glen Capri.

When Deaton informed the pack that Scott was becoming a True Alpha, she was honestly worried that the former asthmatic would one day attempt to kill her, just like Peter and Derek. Or God forbid, turn out like Deucalion and Kali. But then Deaton explained that a True Alpha didn't _need_ to kill anyone, that an Alpha like that only existed due to their strength of character. And she breathed easier, safe in the knowledge that Scott would never harm her, or anyone else, for that matter.

She was also amazed that she hadn't seen it before. In spite of the fact that Peter gave him the bite and Derek wanting him for his own pack, he never once submitted to either of them. Because Scott was already an Alpha and had been for quite some time. He didn't have the most conventional pack, as his "betas" consisted of a ragtag bunch of humans, werewolves, a banshee, and (briefly) an ex-kanima.

It didn't escape her notice that Scott was a tactile person. He was always placing his arms around shoulders, or casually holding someone's hand, or else touching his friends in some way. He was usually like that with Stiles and Allison, and lately also with Isaac and herself. It was as if he needed physical proof that the four of them were unharmed and _alive._ After all the _shit_ they'd been through, she was willing to give him that reassurance.

Yet it took her a while to get used to the random touching. She recalled the first time he kissed her cheek. He had done it out of gratitude, after she pointed out that he was failing math and offered to tutor him. She knew he didn't think anything of the gesture, that it was only meant to be friendly, but she found herself flinching from the contact.

His chocolate-colored eyes had widened in shock, followed by something akin to sympathy. Something between _crap_ and _shit_ escaped his lips, as he stammered out an apology. Even though he wasn't too fond of Aiden, he still didn't wanna make things awkward between her and the Alpha twin.

She laughed off his concern, surprising both of them. The kiss wasn't as weird as it should have been, especially considering their history. _It's fine, Scotty_, she assured him. And whoa, where did _that_ come from? When did she start thinking of him as _Scotty?_

He just gave her a bemused smile in response, before gently squeezing her hand in thanks.

She wondered about that, calling him Scotty. While the nickname itself wasn't new, it was an unspoken rule within the pack that the only one allowed to use it was Stiles. And anyway, it felt like she was addressing her kid brother. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that's who Scott was to her. She cared about him like a brother.

Now if someone were to ask Lydia Martin how she'd describe Scott McCall, she would've been able to answer that person with three simple words: as _brother,_ _protector,_ and _leader._

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more notes: Thanks to everyone who favorited and/or is currently following this story. But reviews would be nice too; even _one_ would totally make my day (or night, as the case may be).


	3. fractured fairytale

a/n: the timeframe for this chapter takes place between _Master Plan_ and _Tattoo_. Also, I'm worried that Lydia seems out of character.

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Once upon a time, a girl named Lydia gave her heart to a boy named Jackson.

Of course, she dated other boys before, but she didn't really love any of them. If asked, she wouldn't be able to recall any of their names, or distinguish any discernible features. And if she were to be perfectly honest, she was only interested in the thrill of the chase. It wasn't like she was looking for anything meaningful.

Her beauty was power and she wielded it as easily as a predator stalks her prey. All it took was a sweet giggle, or perhaps a flirty smile, and they were ensnared in her well-manicured hands. While she toyed with their hearts, she made sure to barricade her own. She was terrified to let anyone get that close, to know the real her.

Jackson was different though. She didn't mean to fall for him, but he somehow slipped past her defenses. He may have played the part of the cruel, heartless jock, but over time she realized that it wasn't who he really was. And she suddenly understood him a lot better, because she wore a mask too. Almost without thinking, she had let him in and shown a side of herself that even Allison wasn't privy to.

Yet their relationship was far from fairytale perfect. Sure, they cared about each other, and would always support one another, but they were both strong personalities. More often than not, they would argue about anything and everything, his blue eyes locking onto her green ones, neither willing to back down. Lydia speculated that they stayed together as long as they did because they only had each other.

So when Jackson broke the news that he was moving to London, all the air seemed to escape her lungs. _No no no,_ she thought frantically. Loneliness was her only weakness, always had been, and the fact that he would use that wounded her deeply.

He twisted the knife further by suggesting that they break up. Shock then gave way to hatred, raw and unexpected. This hate burning her heart was so strong, she thought she would drown in its intensity. Once she found her voice, they engaged into yet another shouting match.

_How could you do this to me?_ she demanded, angrily swiping at her eyes. She cursed herself for this moment of weakness, for ever letting a _boy_ get close enough to hurt her.

_It's better this way,_ he replied, his voice tired.

_Bullshit,_ she declared boldly. Her love saved him from the kanima's curse, hadn't it? Love and a seemingly insignificant brass key. If it wasn't for her, he'd still be a scaly lizard monster. Maybe even dead. Their relationship was like something out of a fairytale, except that the prince then became a werewolf. After everything they'd been through, this was how he wanted to leave things?

_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,_ he whispered, reaching out for her.

_Don't touch me!_ she snarled, sobbing. More than anything, she craved the comfort he was willing to give, but forced herself to back away from him. She noted with a savage kind of pleasure that he was also falling apart, though he was doing his best to hide it.

_I love you. I'll always love you._

_Go,_ she shouted, but she meant the opposite. After he left, she realized for the first time that she would be utterly alone. She didn't have anyone.

She would never, ever forgive him for that.

She wished that she never loved him.

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more notes: halfway there, lovelies. As always, don't forget to review.


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